You're the One That I Want
by IneffableScript
Summary: Crowley has been a constant in Aziraphale's life until he took his 86 year nap. Since he saved the Principality back in 1941, things have been different. Now, its 1958 and Aziraphale finds the times changing too quickly for him to keep up with Crowley. Very loosely based on Grease/Cry Baby.


Soho

1958

Styles changed too quickly these days. A large, antique bookshop that had become a staple in Soho for many years was currently filled with not only girls in fluffy knee length skirts, but now slacks and saddle shoes and boys in both leather jackets and cardigans, lounging around. There was a constant procession of vehicles passing by, engines revving in front of the shop and giggles from some of the more graphic first edition books could almost be heard down the block. A certain shop owner and Principality of the Eastern Gate could feel the frustration radiate from his neck down his spine and through his own saddle shoes as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He had done his best to fit in with the times, adopting a white button up shirt, blue cardigan, and cream colored slacks, but he still felt flustered and out of place in this new decade. He took a final deep breath before shooing away everyone he possibly could out of the shop.

Aziraphale slammed the doors shut and rested against the back of them, closing his eyes a moment to block out all the commotion still going on outside. Things had been so much easier over the last decade with Crowley back from his long sleep. The demon helped Aziraphale to keep all these children out with tricks as well as just his menacing presence. But in recent months, Aziraphale found himself more alone than usual again due to Crowley's new past time. Aziraphale felt the frustration in his neck again thinking about it.

Crowley had become a mentor, or leader rather, of a group of 4 teenage boys and assisted them in their mischief making around town. He had dubbed them The Serpents of Soho, The Serpents for short, which was accompanied by a wide, wickedly fanged smile across Crowley's face and caused Aziraphale's eyes to roll heavily each time the demon mentioned it. What they enjoyed best was riding around in the Bentley, yelling out the window at pretty girls as Crowley drives as fast as he possibly can without scaring his mortal companions too much. He even had the nerve to have leather jackets made for them with Crowley's signature tattoo on the back and their gang name. Aziraphale was just grateful that Crowley had enough sense to keep those hooligans away from his shop, but it left the angel feeling rather lonely.

He had spent 80 years without Crowley once before and thought that he could handle the separation, but became very mistaken when he found he had missed the demon in those years so much, it was almost unbearable. Sure, Aziraphale had found himself the occasional brilliant human companion to discuss literature and the finer things he enjoyed, but time always took them from Aziraphale.

Oscar Wilde was his last and favorite. He never thought he could love a human quiet like he loved Crowley, but the man was so witty and not only enjoyed going on walks and dining out with Aziraphale, but shared the same need and love of these simple human tasks like the demon never seemed to. One fateful night after some drinking, chatting, and laughing at the bookshop, one thing led to another and Aziraphale found himself taking the author to bed. This became a frequent affair for the two of them until Oscar married in 1884, but they still continued to visit each other as often as they could given Oscar's rise to fame and husbandly duties. Aziraphale, being a being of love meant regardless of the lack of physicality between them he could still feel the love that poured from Oscar for him.

When Oscar suddenly passed in November of 1900, Aziraphale knew he could not fall for another human again. The pain he felt was far too great, even for a soldier such as himself. He didn't know how long he had kept the bookshop closed in his mourning, how long he refused to visit those spots they went to often or even the upstairs flat of the bookshop until Gabriel had paid him a visit to remind him what the shop was there for, a cover for him continued his work in the Great Plan. Twenty-six years still had not seemed enough, but Aziraphale dove head first into work and the war effort to forget his lovely writer. He kept human interaction strictly business. When he suddenly saw Crowley hopping from foot to foot into that church in 1941, had he not been so focused on saving them from the bomb, he would have sobbed right there. He knew he would never allow that ridiculous demon to walk out of his life again.

Aziraphale pressed his eyes closed tighter still as these memories came back to him, struggling to hold back even the slightest tears. He knew he couldn't go on like this, but he also did not know what else he could do. Suddenly, a ridiculous idea then crept its was into the angels mind, much like a snake wrapping itself around its prey. Aziraphale shook his head, trying to loosen its grip, but the idea had already wrapped too tightly for him to be free of it. He pulled his pocket watch out of the pocket of the pale blue cardigan he wore. It was still early enough in the day that many shops would still be open. He flipped the sign on the door to closed before he stepped out, snapping his fingers to lock them as he went.

Crowley had found a rather interesting bar for his gang to occupy most evenings called the Heaven & Hell Coffee Lounge. Outside, lovely French working girls greeted you and offered you a good time upstairs, which was a promising start to the place. They had a ground level area which was always clean, covered completely in white and cream with angels dancing up the walls, and usually vacant, but a spiral staircase brought you down to the more interesting part of the bar where it cost you to get in, painted flames crept up the wall, and the jukebox blared popular music just a little too loud. He would get a free Coca Cola on entry, which he always handed off to one of the boys because soda pop was too sweet for his liking. He was there for the bitter coffee and easy tempting.

He enjoyed the looks they created when they walked in together like a pack of hyenas decked out in skin tight jeans and leather jackets. Most were disapproving, of course, but every now and then he could see the saunter of his walk creating temptation in the eyes of a girl or two. They always occupied a table near the devil painted on the wall in the corner of the room, which only once did one of his boys mention looked quite a lot like him, until he shot him a burning look behind his shades. It was never spoken of again, but it was not far from the truth, as he had posed nude for the original artist, but was not aware that his image would then be duplicated and slapped on a wall of a coffee bar.

Crowley enjoyed the atmosphere here because it was agreed upon that everyone here was a sinner. Queers, prostitutes, and gang members alike could be found here mingled with everyday joes and teenagers looking for some fun. He smiled behind his shades and ordered coffee for himself and 3 more cokes for the other lads from the waitress before heading over to the music player. He selected Blue Monday by Fats Domino, which had not been an option a moment before. He watched as the machine moved the last record from the player and replaced it with the new one, the needle gently coming down burst forth the rock and roll song he had selected. He was so entranced by this that he had not sensed the angel enter until he heard the ruckus from behind him.

He turned around and though he felt his sunglasses falling from his nose, he did not move to fix them, caught completely and utterly by surprise at the sight before him. There stood Aziraphale, Principality of the Eastern Gate, holder of standards, fussy bookshop owner who most of these people had come to know at some point in their lives, dressed head to toe in greaser garb. His blonde curls were slicked back straight on the sides, only the front curls hung down in his face. His cardigan was gone and in its place a stark white t-shirt, sleeves rolled slightly and a leather jacket hooked over some fingers and thrown over his shoulder. Crowley's eyes trailed down to find the tightest pair of pants the angel had ever worn, even compared to those he wore in the 1700's, the cuffs curled up a time or two to show off his leather boots. These were not new, but falling apart and had no strings. He recognized these from the war. He only brought his eyes back up when he noticed the angel light a cigarette with his free hand and breath it in deeply like he had been smoking his whole existence.

Crowley felt what he could only describe as flames licking at his face. At the moment, he could not tell if he was truly angry, aroused, or possibly both. He vaguely heard one of his boys coming up to his right and asking, "Hey, ain't that ol' Mis'er Fell? Wha's he doin' outta the bookshop?" The boy laughed and nudged Crowley to join in, but the demon instead pushed the boy away and began to stormed over to the table the angel had settled at, talking idly with a patron of the shop that was asking about his sudden make over. "Yes, Mr. Fell, why don't you enlighten us on your sudden transformation?," Crowley blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Oh, ya know! They say if you can't lick em', join em'!," Aziraphale managed to get out a laugh with everyone else that followed. He was still managing to avoid eye contact with the demon, taking a long drag of his cigarette. A tall man, with slicked back black hair tapped Aziraphale on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Aziraphale nodded, smiling and putting out his cigarette before draping his jacket over a near by chair. They moved to the middle of the bar together and Crowley could tell Aziraphale was telling the man how lousy he was at dancing and if he could possibly show him what to do and blah blah blah.

Crowley grit his teeth together as the man gently draped the blondes arms over his shoulders, placed his own hands on the others waist, and pulled him in closer to him. Crowley watched as Aziraphale smiled as they began to sway together way too close, in the way that was popular with younger people, yet still considered inappropriate. The man lightly thrust his hips forward and the blonde started a bit, but quickly laughed it off and followed his partners movements. Crowley noticed the angel beginning to move his hips in ways he had never seen him move them before, if at all. Aziraphale's head fell back as his laugh rang out and suddenly Crowley felt whatever this was flash inside him.

Crowley strode over to them and Aziraphale finally met his gaze, smiling. "Why don't you take a picture, my dear? It'll last longer," He said, causing the other man to laugh.

Without a word, Crowley grabbed the angel by the arm and dragged him up the stairs, leaving the other fellow to yell and gawk at them from the dance floor. Aziraphale only barely was able to grab his jacket on the way out. Crowley was thankful that he did not really need his eyes to adjust to the bright likes of "Heaven" and even more thankful that only a lonely waitress was behind the counter, reading a magazine and popping chewing gum.

"What in Heaven are you fucking playing at Aziraphale!?," Crowley howled, whirling the angel around to face him.

"Its just as I said, Crowley. I came to join the gang. Be one of the boys."

"B-but you're an angel, angel! Start your own bloody ethereal gang to, I don't know, thwart me, or whatever!"

"But I don't want to thwart you, I want to help you."

"What's this really about Aziraphale?" Crowley lower his voice, trying his best to tame the heat a bit. He could feel it still licking at his neck and ears.

Aziraphale slid his leather jacket on and sighed.

"It's silly of me. But I… I'm trying not to be like that anymore."

"Angel, you've always been fussy and..."

"And?"

Crowley growled in frustration. "And I like that about you, damn it!"

"You… you do?"

"Of course I bloody well do! D'ya think I'd stay around if I didn't?!"

"Well you haven't been around lately, so I just thought..."

"Thought what? You'd play dress up and it would make me come back? I never left angel. I'm right here! I just… I don't know. Got carried away I suppose." Crowley ran a hand through the side of his hair quickly, trying to think through the fire encompassing his brain when it dawned on him. "Did you… did you miss me angel?"

"Well I… I suppose I've just gotten used to you being around is all."

"That's it, huh?"

"Best not say more here," Aziraphale said, sighing and looking around uncomfortably.

Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale looked around, realizing he had miracled them back to the bookshop where he knew the angel had miracles keeping out prying eyes.

"You were saying angel?"

"Crowley, I just can't..."

"Yes?"

"I can't lose you! Not again. I… I was wrong last time. I didn't understand, yet... you still came back to me and continued on like nothing had changed. Like I didn't hurt you." Aziraphale felt the tears stinging his eyes as he stared at Crowley. Crowley moved closer to him, grasping his hands, causing a sob to burst from the angel. He wrapped his arms around him in a calming embrace.

"Angel, I'm not going anywhere. It was wrong of me to sleep for so long, to punish you like that. You're right, I was hurt, but that was no excuse. Thats why when I came back, I didn't make a big deal out of it. We are an angel and a demon. We've always known this would be complicated." He heard Aziraphale chuckle a little and sniffle. He pulled back to look his demon in the eye.

"Oh Crowley, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I didn't just say something. I-I feel like a fool. I mean, just look at me! Do you know I had to miracle myself into these jeans!? Is that what you do every day?"

"Depends on the jean really, but most days, yes." Crowley laughed and took a good look at Aziraphale. "Ya know… you didn't do half bad, angel."

"Oh! Oh thank you, dear! You really don't have to flatter me though. I saw those peoples faces at the lounge. I'm rather aware how ridiculous I look."

"No really, Aziraphale. I don't think that one wanker would have asked you to dance if you looked all that bad."

Aziraphale looked at Crowley through his shades as only he could. He took notice of the slight blushed in the demons cheeks.

"Crowley were… were you jealous?"

"Don't know what you mean, angel."

"Of the boy in the lounge. Were you jealous that he asked me to dance?"

"I… I wouldn't say jealous. Filled with murderous rage is more like it."

"I believe that might be called jealousy, my dear demon." Aziraphale beamed a little at him, which made the flush on Crowley's face spread to his chest, causing his hair to look like actual flames now. Aziraphale brought Crowley's hands up to his lips and kissed them softly. "If I knew just dancing with someone would get this kind of reaction from you, I would have done it ages ago."

"It wasn't just that,"Crowley's mouth betrayed him.

"Oh?" Aziraphale looked at the red head quizzically.

Crowley growled in frustration, not able to choke it down anymore. Since he had seen Aziraphale at the lounge dressed as he was, this feeling inside him spread like a wildfire he just could not put out. He swiftly pinned Aziraphale up against the nearest wall by his wrists, baring his fanged teeth at him.

"You're a bastard, ya know that!"

"You've made me well aware." Aziraphale said without bite, just staring into Crowley's golden eyes, through the damned shades he wore, in wonder.

"This outfit is obscene Aziraphale. Were you also aware of that?"

"What? But this is what you wear, I don't, oh!" Aziraphale's breath hitched as Crowley pressed himself into him. Aziraphale flushed as he could feel how hard Crowley was under his own jeans.

"You know what I mean, angel. Your chest is almost bare and I can see your cock through those jeans. If you were trying to get my attention, temptation bloody well accomplished!" He snarled into the angels ear, allowing his teeth to tug at his lobe.

"Crowley! I'm an angel! I can't…," His thoughts were scattered once he felt Crowleys hand cup him roughly. His head fell back against the wall and he grasped at Crowley's finger tips against his pinned wrist while his now freed hand reached to tangle in Crowleys hair.

"See, leaves very little to the imagination, Aziraphale. And you just flaunted yourself for everyone in that fucking bar to see like a common whore!" Crowley punctuated his sentence with a solid bite on the angels neck, making sure to suck as to leave a mark for him to admire later.

"I-I was just..."

"Oh I know just what you were doing, angel, and it worked. Did you not want this?," Crowley swallowed before, pulling back, looking into his angels river blue eyes and, undoing his pants to allow the tip of his already dripping cock to peak out.

"Y-yes..." Aziraphale all but cried out. Crowley smiled and kissed the angel's Adam's apple gently.

"Can I take you to bed, angel?," He said softly this time, kissing the blondes throat again.

"Oh Please!," Aziraphale choked out, feeling his eyes well again. It had been so long since he had had any form of physical interaction that all of Crowley's touches felt amplified to him. He felt his tears spill against his warm cheeks again. "Oh dear, I'm-I'm sorry! It's just been so long!"

Crowley cooed lightly against the angel's throat and brought both hands up to cup his flushed face.

"For me too, angel," Was all he could manage to say before he started to kiss away his angel's tears with small pecks to his cheeks, nose, and lips. He only moved his hands to pull Aziraphale from the wall enough to dip down and pick him up into his arms.

"Oh Crowley! I'm much too heavy!" Aziraphale cried out, covering his wet face with his hands.

"Angel, you forget that I use to be like you once and also possess some strength. You feel lighter than a feather to me." Crowley craned his neck to kiss Azirapahle's lips soundly for the first time that evening. He carried his angel up the stairs where he knew his abandoned bedroom would be. Still holding Aziraphale tight, he snapped his fingers to miracle the door open.

"Oh….I um... I'm quiet sorry my dear. I'm afraid its been quite a while since I've used this room." Aziraphale said quietly, remembering exactly the last time he and Oscar had been there, on that very bed. As though he could see the memories flash in Aziraphale's eyes, Crowley leaned down again to kiss Aziraphale's lips reassuringly.

"S'okay, angel. Tell me later." He snapped his fingers again and the room cleared of any dust or grime, a few small candles lit the room here and here, and suddenly all Aziraphale could smell was clove and sandalwood. He sniffled softly and gripped Crowley's jacket with one hand and brought the other up to touch burning cheek. He spoke in a soft, almost pleadingly tone to his demon.

"Would you mind, ever so much, getting me out of these clothes, dear one? I-I need to feel your touch."

Crowley only nodded and brought his angel to the bed, sitting him up on the edge and crawling into the bed behind him. Aziraphale followed him with his eyes, unsure what the demon was doing, until he felt him gently pulling at the shoulders of his new leather jacket. As he helped Aziraphale shrug off the jacket, Crowley took to kissing the back of Aziraphale's ear lobes, neck, and what bit of shoulder he could manage to bare once the jacket came off. Each peck drew soft moans and breathes from the angel that Crowley could only imagine would be what music in Heaven use to be like. He ran his hands down Aziraphale's still clothes sides, gathering the still crisp white shirt in his hands to pull up and over the angels head. As he tossed it over his shoulder without another thought, something caught his eye.

"Angel, wh-?"

"Oh! Oh Dear Lord I forgot about that!" Aziraphale brought his hand up to his neck and turned to face Crowley, this time flushed with embarrassment. "I-I'm afraid I went a little over board with the bad boy bravado! It was the last place I pasted before the lounge and, well, I don't know what came over me, but I… I suppose I thought that if I could not have your symbol on my jacket, I would get it tattooed on me." He looked at Crowley who was still gawking at his new ink, words leaving him. "I-I know! Ridiculous! I'll just miracle it away now." Aziraphale brought his free hand up to snap his fingers, but found thin, delicate fingers gently grabbing them. "Crowley?"

Crowley could not stop staring at the black serpent tattoo now engraved into the back of his angels lower neck. Aziraphale was not the tattoo or piercing type, so for him to go this far, felt like a great honor to Crowley. He smiled softly and leaned in, pushing the angels hand away with the tip of his nose and pressing an open mouthed kiss to the fresh inky image.

"Thank you, angel," was all Crowley could manage before pressing more and more kisses over the angels neck, shoulders, and back. He let his arms snake around to Aziraphale's mid section and hugged him to him as tightly as he could without interfering with his other ministrations.

Aziraphale's breath caught and he was very thankful angels did not need to breath as Crowley touched his belly with those long fingers. He brought his hands down to entwine with Crowley's, staring down at his beautifully long hands. He felt the tears stinging his eyes again overwhelmed by each kiss and touch Crowley gave him. He turned then, staying in Crowley's grasp but pulling his knees under him. He firmly grabbed Crowley's face and kissed him open mouthed, allowing his tears to fall on their lips and ting their tongues as they tasted each other. Crowley tightened his grip behind the angel until he was able to move him to lay below him on the bed.

"It's okay Aziraphale, I'm not going anywhere. Not ever again,"Crowley cooed to his angel between kisses he trailed down his bare, pale chest.

"Never?," Aziraphale hiccuped.

"Never. I'm here for you always. We were made for each other," Crowley latched on to the angels right nipple and worried it between his teeth as gently as he could and thought for a moment that if he continued this simple, lovely task, he could come just from the beautiful noises spilling from Aziraphale's lips. He felt the angel buck into his stomach, felt his still half unclothed prick leave a wet spot just there. He placed a final open mouthed kiss to this nipple, before moving to the other, humming as the sounds above him continued.

Crowley moved on, placed more kisses over his lovers plush stomach, allowing himself to get lost in the softness as his hands grasped the sides and pressing his nose into the cleft of the angels navel playfully, placing a kiss there as well. Aziraphale gasped at this new sensation and buried his hands back into Crowley's crimson locks. He noted the demon had miracled the product holding it in place gone, now allowing Aziraphale to feel the natural silk of it. His tears came slower now, but he still could hold them back. His body sang with each touch of Crowley's fire like grip, yet he wanted more and more.

"Want you," he whimpered, still unbelieving in his vulnerability. He felt the heat rise even more as the serpent's eyes locked on his.

"Want you too, angel," Crowley said with a firm kiss to his lovers sex, which was still fighting to be fully freed from those Satan awful jeans. The angel squirmed and cried out his name, which sounded like a hymn falling from the Principalities lips, tightening his grip in the demons hair. Crowley brought his hands up to begin to pull the damn things down, but his patience was already ice thin, so he snapped his fingers to vanish them, causing the angel to whimper again at suddenly being completely bare.

As much as Crowley wanted nothing more than to grog himself on the angels thick cock, he knew Aziraphale needed a little more care now and did his best to stifle the fire burning inside himself. He ran his hands over the blonds hips, again admiring the soft weight of them under his fingers. He gripped them softly and mouthed each one, only just grazing the flesh with his teeth each time before he couldn't contain himself and fully bit down on one roughly. Again he sucked away from the area with a pop, moving his mouth to a strip of thigh. He licked a stripe down each one, spreading Aziraphale's legs to gain better access. He kissed and nipped and felt he could spend years, decades, millenniums between his angels legs just doing this and nothing more. The only thing that snapped him back to reality was hearing Aziraphale's shuddering breath.

"Lright angel?" he asked softly, pausing to look up at the angel.

"Please! Oh, oh please don't stop, Crowley!" Aziraphale cried, solid tears streaking his face.

"If its too much, we can stop, angel. I won't be upset." Crowley gazed at him, brow furrowed, pained to see his friend crying so. He had never in their existence seen the angel in this state and wasn't sure what to do.

"I-I just haven't been touched in so long. I'd forgotten what it felt like, to be frank. It all… _you _feel so wonderful, my dear. I-I just n-need more." Aziraphale brought up an arm to hide his face, truly embarrassed at the drama he was causing.

Crowley reached up and tugged the angels arm away so that he would look the redhead in the eye.

"Aziraphale, I need to see you. It… its okay. If you want to cry, I mean. I… I understand exactly how you feel. This is a lot and I know how it feels to go untouched for so long as only we could possibly know. But I want to see your face and I _need _you to see mine to know that I'm not going anywhere. That you are mine and… I am yours." He snapped his fingers to rid himself of his shades, so prove his point to Aziraphale.

"You are mine?" Aziraphale had calmed a moment, his eyes looking like the eye of a hurricane in the sea to Crowley, wet along his swollen cheeks, but still.

"Yeah, angel. Only yours."

Aziraphale took this in, this stormy blue eyes searching the demons as a hand gently caressed flaming locks.

"Please continue, my love. I'm just an over emotional, old silly," he huffed a laugh and sniffled again.

"_ My _old silly," Crowley replied with a smile and quickly went back to work at peppering kisses to the angels inner thighs before he could say anything further.

Aziraphale relaxed further into the bed and allowed Crowley to continue, feeling relieved now that Crowley didn't seem to mind his emotional state. He felt more fully seen then he had in his whole existence and less a fool for feeling as he did. Each kiss Crowley planted now bloomed into white heat inside his skin, urging his hips to snap up into Crowley's grasp. Crowley smirked and allowed his lips to finally just barely graze over the tip of Aziraphale's cock, thrilled when the angel whined under his touch and thrusted up for more.

"Tell me what you need angel..." he said, kissing along the length of his lover now.

Aziraphale looked at him, eyes half mast with lust, mouth agape as he thought how best to respond.

"Oh I-I suppose, well, I know its not terribly exciting..."

"Everything with you is exciting," Crowley said continuing to kiss and nip at the angels organ, making it harder for the Principality to think.

"Could I hold you while you…" Aziraphale huffed, trying to find the words.

"Fuck you?,"Crowley offered.

"_ Make love _! Make love to me. Is...is that okay?" He gazed down at Crowley and made the demon look at him by gently pulling his hair.

Crowley reddened in the face a bit and nodded. He crawled back up his angel, allowing his hands to stroke along the soft skin at either side. He brought one hand up to tangle loosely in blonde curls as he leaned over Aziraphale to kiss him again on the lips. While his angel was focused on his lips, his tongue dancing inside the blondes mouth, he miracled his fingers slick and sought invitation with his middle finger, swirling it gently around his lovers hole in anticipation. Aziraphale wrapped his arms about the demon and hummed into their kissing as approval. Crowley pressed his finger inward and deepened their kiss to distract from any discomfort, but the angel only thrust up to meet his hand with his hips. Crowley unceremoniously added a second and a third finger as Aziraphale pleaded for more and more, panting out the word between kisses.

"Angel, we can take this slow. I don't want to hurt..."

"Crowley, dear, this is not my first time. You won't,"Aziraphale said, face blotched redness and tears, lips swollen. He kissed Crowley again, pushing up against him into the kiss.

Crowley removed his fingers and snapped his fingers, sending his greaser clothing Satan knows where, but he didn't care. Aziraphale sighed at the feeling of skin on skin contact and looked down to admire his demon.

"My dear serpent, aren't you pretty atop me?" He smiled to see Crowley was able to flush more than he already was from his hard work.

Crowley miracled himself slick and aligned himself before slipping steadily inch by inch into his angel. He pressed kisses all over Aziraphale's face, lips, neck, and eye lids even. Each one held a small prayer of love and thanks to whoever would listen for the splendor beneath him, his angel writhing in ecstasy around him. He began to move slowly in and out of Aziraphale, the blondes thighs pressing against his, tightly trying to hold him in place. The thing about snakes is that its hard to keep them still. Crowley was still able to thrust effortlessly despite the plush thighs around him and only enjoyed the friction they caused. The angel on the other hand felt they hindered his love and fully wrapped them around Crowley, hooking his ankles behind the demons back.

Crowley faulted a little in his rhythm, surprised the angel would do such a thing. He was also surprised to find that the angels hips really could do all those things they were doing on the dance floor of the coffee lounge earlier that evening. The thought of the joker with him earlier came back to him and spurred his thrusts to become deeper and faster.

"Mineee," Crowley let slip out after a particularly hard thrust,

"Yours, only yours," Azirapahle breathed back, bringing his arms around Crowley's neck, a hand tangling into his red locks. "Darling, t-touch me, please," he said into Crowley's ear, licking and nipping his earlobe.

Crowley moaned into his angels nibbles and reached between them. He wrapped his fingers around Azirpahle's cock, enjoying the heft of it before teasingly smearing the come that was dripping from it around the tip with his thumb. Aziraphale thrust into Crowley's touch, begging him to move again. Crowley had not realized he had stopped to pay extra attention to his angels gorgeous groin. He quickly found a rhythm again, thrusting into his love and jerking him off at the same time.

"Beautiful angel..." Crowley whispered to him. "I love you however you are; square, greaser, just fussy ol' you." He kissed Aziraphale's plump chest. "But I love you like this best of all..." he bites and sucks into his neck, leaving yet another mark of his affections "Coming apart under me… begging me..." His other hand snaked down to grab Aziraphale's hip, giving him even more leverage and causing Aziraphale to let out a string of lust filled moans and cries. "Coming jusssst for me… you will won't you, angel? Come for me?" Crowley spoke into his ear, nuzzling kisses there as well.

"Oh Crowley, I-I…. yes! Yes! Crowley!" With that it all became too much. The burn of his orgasm had Aziraphale thrusting hard, eyes closed and tears streaming, coming into Crowley's fist, striking their stomachs and chests white and hot.

"Tha'sss gooood angel…." Crowley cooed, helping his love to ride out his orgasm, but quickly finding his own climax as he felt Aziraphale pulsate around him. He spilled into Azirapahle for what seemed multiple times before collapsing on top of him and curling into him, hands cupping the angels soaked face, weak lips kissing where he could, and his forked tongue catching the final tears in the corners of his lovers eyes. Their eyes finally met again.

"Thank you, Crowley, thank you a thousand times," Aziraphale said before kissing his demon softly on the lips.

"Anytime," Crowley said as they parted, a smile forming on his wide lips.

"Darling… did you really mean what you said? That… you love me… as I am, that is?" Aziraphale asked, looking a little searchingly at Crowley. Crowley shied at the intimacy of him being looked at in such a way, limp and still inside the angel, blushed and looked down at the sparse blonde hair on the angels chest.

"Course. Wouldn't have you any other way, really. You look good in every era, but... just you being you is all I need. All I want. No matter the clothes you wear, Aziraphale." Crowley raked his fingers softly through the hair there.

"Then you don't mind my sweater vests?"

"Too pure for me, but perfect on you."

"Oh good! Those jeans, while exceptional looking on you, were bloody tiresome to wear. And… I didn't like the attention they put on me." The angel scrunched his nose a little at the idea of all those people staring at him and the tightness surrounding him in those blue jeans.

"Didn't like it either. Creeps, the lot of em'." Crowley huffed and nuzzled his head into Aziraphale's chest, hugging him tightly for emphasis.

"Oh you silly snake!" Aziraphale laughed and brought Crowley's face up to look at him again before planting another open mouthed kiss on his demons lips. He beamed, the thought of Crowley actually being jealous tickling him a little and making him love the demon even more.

"You promise to come around more then? Not with those boys, I mean, just you?"

"If you'd like. You're the one that I want, angel. No one else. Those boys can piss off. I'll wipe their memories clean. If you need me, I'm here." He knew honesty wasn't a demons trade mark, so anything the angel needed to hear, Crowley knew to tell him now. He kissed Aziraphale soundly to punctuate his sentence.

Aziraphale must have wiggled a little in delight, because Crowley gasped a little in their kiss.

"Dear?" Aziraphale pulled back to look at the demon, a little alarmed.

"If you keep moving like that, we might have to do this again," Crowley sighed a small laugh.

Aziraphale smiled again and before the demon could think about resting, flipped them over, so the angel was now looking down at the demon.

"And why shouldn't we? We don't need to rest now, do we?" Aziraphale ground his hips down on Corwley's slowly regrowing cock still inside him, leaning down to kiss him. "Besides, my dear, think of all the things we have not done yet. I think I'd really rather enjoy riding you, that is, if you don't mind?"

Crowley stared up at his angel, eyes blown with arousal and disbelief. He started to laugh and only stopped to lean up and kiss Aziraphale again, hooking a hand around his neck. They spent the rest of the night and next morning exploring each others bodies and what they could do over and over again until Crowley begged his angel for sleep. Aziraphale obliged, snapping his fingers to miracle himself a cup of coco and a book. Crowley kissed his angel, snuggling to him, snapping his own fingers to miracle a record player to play "My Special Angel" as he drifted to sleep. Aziraphale brimmed with happiness as he pet his demons lovely hair, a content sigh leaving him as he picked his book up and let the day slip by them, entwined together.

When Crowley finally awoke the next evening, they dressed each other. Aziraphale carefully tucking Crowley into his tight jeans, buttoning and zipping them before tucking in his black t-shirt while Crowley was careful not to wrinkle the angels khaki slacks, buttoning each button on his pale blue shirt with delicate fingers, and pulling a gorgeous blue, black, and cream argyle sweater over his head and smoothing it over his plush chest. Before they left the shop, Crowley was sure to follow his angel out so he could gently pull down the back of his shirts to kiss his hidden tattoo, hoping this would convey what he could not say. He miracled the Bentley back to the bookshop and opened the door for Aziraphale, who swiftly kissed his demon on the cheek as he got in. Crowley took his time driving for once enjoying their chat too much to speed through town. When they arrived at The Ritz, Crowley shooed the valet away to open the door for his angel. Once seated, they ate, drank, talked, and laughed as though they hadn't in decades. Near the end of their evening there, they made a toast.

"To us," Aziraphale said, gazing at Crowley, the candle light making their eyes twinkle like sapphires and amber.

"To the New Arrangement," Crowley smirked, touching his glass to Aziraphale's. The angel flushed and smiled brightly, yet nodded in agreement.

"To the New Arrangement, my dear, dear friend," Aziraphale finished his champagne and placed his hand softly on Crowley's with a contented sigh.


End file.
